Bur 180: the story of a huge bream


In the first years after the arrival of Volga, the oak forests and grasslands at each fishing hole lay pound perch and roach, and pike weighing 10-15 pounds. The fishing here was excellent. Pike and other fish we caught in the woods, often right there on the ice, and spending the night.

Not long ago we traveled here in a single railway carriage, pulled by a puffing little teplovik, but simply “a motor”. He transported workers of the forestry administration, but took and fishermen.

Now this place is a settlement of summer residents, fishermen and romantics, on the cheap, bought the houses of the residents moved to other places, is called by the name of the station: Oak.

I must say, stay here, “newbies” depends on whether to raise the level of the Cheboksary reservoir to the maximum level or not, because at the next rising of the water, “new Oak” will disappear from the face of the earth completely.


In three days, vitrified, covered with a crispy crust of ice streams and bays at the Wharf of Oak. Black seemed young transparent ice over koristiti pits, and shoals lay it clean and bright. Sprinkle it in different directions red striped perch and plotnicki-sarogi, sensitive to the cautious steps of the first angler.

Clear weather was a few days, and then on the immature more ice, the crimson an early frost fell from the sky a winter Blizzard.

Read the material “With a jig for bottling”

Cursing, knead we miles of soft snow. Here they are innumerable. Way check a successfully. The ice seemed strong, homogeneous, thicker than eight inches, but came to the Islands, and the ice pick after a light blow just as easily slipped down. Scour. Carefully avoiding the dangerous area.

The day passes in search of small fish — bait fish. And when the skies turn gray, looking for a roof over my head.

Spend the night in the dugout — they are on almost every island. Buzzing the stove, blushing hot tin sides. In the window, overcast film, looks moonlit night. So, tomorrow will clarify, freeze. Somewhere in the ducts hoots broken crack ice. Drumlets softly-sleep in the warmth of the dugout, lair leshakov.

Read the material “Problem with hot in the winter floods”

In the morning put imitation fish, abrowse them mainly spiky snotty ruffs for lack of other bait fish. And here is the first rise of the scarlet flag. Coil imitation fish moving and slowly begins to spin. After the cuttings from the hole crawls Krasnoperov okunishi a pound. Flopping protruding lips in disgust, he tosses at Inist baby.

The first is a beautiful and serious fish! And when the sky cleared up, the jig and the lure became caught perch-okunishi and silvery roach.

Read the material “Fish for bass off the ice”

Pike exits began around ten. Pike took a medium-sized, up to two pounds, but she was frisky in the autumn. Immediately after lifting the box the coil, making a few turns, began to spin wildly. Do your act, otherwise to be your tackle into snags.

Did not disappoint first ice has become a holiday this time.


Photo: Alexander Tokarev.

In the morning go into the channel between the Islands. The remains of Vladimir Gerlich guard grip. He is not a fan of sea fishing. Prefers to sit in front of the tackle, looking at the sky, blowing smoke, philosophizing and slowly jerking from time to time a small fry, pass on live bait.

But barely lights up the box over the ice, where his slowness! Vladimir rushes to the imitation fish, tossing up the snow, and the ears of his officer’s cap clap on the shoulder, like a Spaniel.

Sergei decide to look for perch. Crossing the island firebreak — year-old boat Perevoloka. For this clearing even potamo with a Bang and laughter was cheerful company, obviously, hard “posateria” on the shore.

Read the material “Wild boars: the case of the forest”

Aside from the trails depart svejeprigotovlenny curves moves on a fragile virgin. In some places darken flattened “maturation”, is clearly not the hare. Rested apparently the guys in the sieve was ispurely pad of ice green with driftwood sticking out in the middle of the ducts have failed a couple of times in the ravine, leaving a Smoking black hole, and then went off somewhere whether fish seek, or adventure…

We first blessom on the finished holes. But it seems that the place is burnt, does not take. Sergey boring in the middle of the ducts, and I go to a steep Bank.

Here deeper. The ice under the cliff has its own pattern from the dark spots in the center of the divergent spiral circles-divorce. Obviously, there selling for. Water going around, and then frost and froze. I boldly step into the center of the maelstrom and… stop.

Read the material “How not to drown or safe ice does not happen”

The ice under my feet cracking and sags. Is water. The Icepick almost without a blow sinks deep. Uh, Yes there is a thickness of ice less than three inches! We have little time to bathe me in ice font. We have already passed. Not breathing, sliding steps go back, and after running the crack, catching the water. Sergei sees my maneuvers.

— What are you doing sneaking in? – cries.
The fish don’t want to scare her here Nemer. Here, right under me, on the ice beats!
— Say Hello from me! Going to sink — pull out I will not!

Sergey, laughing, walks on the Bayou, looking in my direction, and suddenly smoothly somewhere down. Only the head is black above the gray surface. Carefully selected for him, preparing string with a heavy nut on the end. But comrade, snorting and remembering a local truck with all the water and its close and distant relatives, crawls on the ice itself.

— How’s the water? — cheerfully asked and just in case the banks on the nose: for some reason I don’t like Seregina eyes.

Read the material “In the course of the great river”

Soon the island is ablaze with fire. No other way to call the fire that burned comrade. From Sergey clubs belching steam. I dig in the backpack and climbed up on the island, give Sergei a flask.
— Keep warm! Just don’t make vodka cult. Day, again and again, maybe take a swim.
— Been there, done that!
— I saw you swimming…
After me flying gnarled stump.

I settled on the middle of the ducts with a floater stuck in the ice like a crocodile. A storm just two holes. One down moth on brass eye and the other with rinse yellow lesenko with a bead on the hook.

Up-down, down, pause. Back up again. To raise do not have time. Fishing line heavier and rests. From the hole crawls bristling perch and a half in the palm of your hand. Dump it on the ice and again in the heat of the spoon is lowered into the hole. She goes to the side and not having time to stop, re-enters in someone’s greedy mouth. Went!

Read the material “Let’s help mother Volga!”

About the bait with bloodworms forget. And for good reason. Only when she dives into the hole, grab the tackle. On the hook-zaglotila tied above the jig, beating a large roach. – Motyl, lowering the tandem of the jig with hook under the ice and are taken back to the spinning-blasnik.


Photo: Alexander Tokarev.

Snag gets in the hole, and I pull out of her, pausing seconds three or four in the lower position. The flock apparently moved until I roach was busy. But still stubbornly do sign spinning. Will fit striped!

Nod winces, and hangs on the line something limp and heavy. Vyvazhivaete and take hand. On the ice is pounding even bigger roach. For meat in lent pulled hypocrite vegan! It’s certainly not news that large white fish grabs the lure, but on the ice it’s my first time.

Spotted fish not bagrenje, and all the rules that swallowed the lure almost to the gills…

Read the material “Roach under the ice”

Inspired by fishing, I saw nothing and heard nothing. Meanwhile, on the inland side there was a crack. This walrus Serge, never procknow, bursting through the bushes on the ice. From him per kilometer reeked of vodka, and the steam was cut down, think of all the holes, and from the nostrils, I saw, off the fire.

Eyes looking in different directions. And I wasted, what’s next screamed petrol ledobur. At the time I was in the ring of a double row of holes. Even under my chair there was a black hole…

— He without me bass, Ah ha! Oh-Ho! Yes, I… Now-now! I suffered from Serge.
I wistfully remembered the old rule: when Amurat, it is not to catch any one who oboril or someone has oboril.

But bass too, apparently, were drunk and needed my spoon, and Seregin…

In the evening in the Bayou looked dismal procession, reminding the prisoners of Napoleon’s cuirassiers on the Old Smolensk road. Stumbling, they walked on the ice, anxiously looking around and feeling the ice. Dry in the procession was not observed.

It was the familiar “fun” company…


Today we’re going to Oak for the pike perch. On a fishing trip I was not long ago, and according to rumors much it has changed.

If earlier perches and Berchem eagerly snapped the usual “naked” lures are made of Nickel silver and brass, they are now completely spoiled and without replanting pieces of sprat don’t want to look at the most expensive snag.

In addition, advanced anglers-snobs, armed with all electronics in the world and moved on snowmobiles, totally messed up the gullible and easily inspires the fish, by driving its barbed head the habit of noticing only lure with a fluorescent coating.

Read the material “With a balance wheel on the course”

Before that, pike was more keen? After all, once he saw in the depths of a nondescript handmade from Nickel silver, soldered on top of the lead, and now at five yards without points doesn’t notice the silver of the silver lures…


Photo: Alexander Tokarev.

Not to say that I’m not prepared for modern fishing. I bought a “Swedish pimples” (not really pimples on the back seat, if you estimate the money given for them), and “admirals”, glowing as if their ship had committed a nuclear attack.

And the “admirals” were of two kinds: domestic, eye, tail, and Chinese, with an eye on the place. And the jig was purchased also glowing.

Read the material “When flair did not disappoint”

So we unloaded and drag a scraper, like balancing over the black abyss, when we opened the pit. On the yellow sandbanks from under his feet to sprinkle helter-skelter striped “sailor”. And when we go to the starting line where the depth of ten meters, the abyss under the feet becoming blacker than black.

Though the ice is solid, about 6-9 cm, and the heart makes me feel uncomfortable gaping under the feet of the universe. And somehow strange to see the barges that go by ship, ice bound, at first glance, the entire Volga river from shore to shore. But the fairway, apparently, still open…

On the site it appears that the pike perch and bersh damn all of my “admirals” and “zits.” Today spoiled “fish” chooses Japanese delicacies in the form of a stabilizer and fresh fish, sushi takes the same proverbial sprat. And whitebait clings only to the lower tee.

But I don’t have these balancers, and I miss you as long as mate fishing is not shared with me. However, as it turns out, the “Japanese” perches and Berchem take if the balancer glued reflective strips. That’s what ruined the fish!

Read the material “Fishing joy winter Unzha”

So I budgeted rent the balancer does not work in full force. But somehow, and without fish I’m not staying. As it turned out, in this day, everywhere the pike perch and bersh more fooling around than caught. And obviously, the reason for that was transparent as glass, ice and a bright Sunny day.

Later, in the December fishing when the ice was thick, and snow piled up on it, leaving the perch become more effective.


There was once a time, the name of which is “the feast during the plague”. Volga water, backed by the dam Cheboksary HPP, rushed eagerly on the meadow expanse, came to the abandoned settlements-villages, covering the cemetery with crosses cracked, bubbled in birch, and only stopped under the krutoyary, now the Volga shores.

With this greedy water, licking juicy new Bank, equally eagerly out on former meadows every fish. There was lots of food for when sarogi, yellow-eyed IDE, bleak, and hence for any predator that does not avoid shallow water.

And then were surprised no one lying next to a hole pound of sorage and perch, eight – and desyatikilogrammovye pike. Happened, and the pounds will sit on the tee imitation fish. Those were the good days for anglers are not to blame, of course, is that of the Volga made reservoir.

Read the material “Guns do not give: Regardie the decision of the court is not a decree”

Fell and us with Andrew to visit this “feast”. As my friend and in these places not previously visited, was equipped, as befits a river and pond fishermen, “malyavochka”: very thin fishing line, how then allowed the Klin production, the drill-brace 100, bagorik of wire, jig-eyes.

Harsh Volga fish smashed our tackle in a moment, and by next fishing trip we had prepared thoroughly and came to the place excitedly-confident in their abilities. And the place was the edge of the flooded forest, which was started depth to ten metres.

The sun grew turbid with the birch and oak trees, frozen in the ice. Susanna hoarsely croaked the crows in the forest glades, the snow crunched under our “himcolin”. Finally we have in place.


Photo: Alexander Tokarev.

— Drill?
— Give!

Depth of six meters. And over there, even slightly. For jigs with a pea-sized tolerably well, though sometimes picks up from the bottom. Conventional nozzle — bloodworm.

The jig with the tip of the moths fluttering into the hole, but the bottom does not have time to walk. Like bumps into something. And that “something” suddenly bends the spinning hard. Eat! Tighten the elastic weight, but pass the fish line back. Once up, painfully, with a grimace on her face and cold, dead soul somewhere in the stomach…

— What are you doing there? — rises from the box Andrew.
— Gaff, gaff, Andrei!

The snow rustles under my feet companion. And he plops down right there.
— What is it?
— Can not raise. Everything went like. Now take…

But the fish gets in the hole is stupid and breaking. Neither here nor there. Put my hand in the hole and feel for the bottom only the tip of the snout slippery and cold.

— The hook come on!

But out of the hole we pull out only the huge head of bream…

That day we beheaded a few of these fish, then had a fight, spat, drank and went home.

Read the material “How to choose screws,”

And since then, always and on any fishing trip we dragged a heavy drills 180, visualaudio in the ice a couple of wells. And drill two dozen such “holes”, falling on the ice and gulp water straight from them, and from our heads floating in the bath.

But we do know that now you will not leave us nor charmed bream in two and a half or pike of twelve pounds poods…


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